Recordare
by Servatia
Summary: This came from reading somewhere that if you complete Molecular Level before meeting the Railroad and go to the Old North Church after, you get kicked out. Or so I've heard. I have yet to find a video to that effect, so this is just where my head went. Or where my head went. Or spiralled.
1. Recordare Iesu pie

_((I don't know why, but Deacon makes me think of Gossec's Requiem. Perhaps it's got something to do with a cheerful exterior that doesn't hold up at a close look._

 _The chapter headings are taken exclusively from the funeral sequence, namely the stanzas 9-14. Since the Latin text was written in the 13th century, no copyright infringement is at all possible. Therefore, I will post the English translation (the one that is closer to the Latin text) here, in the intro, in full._

 _The individual lines are brought into some context with their respective chapters, sometimes obviously, sometimes it's hard to spot._

 _The first line of every stanza, you will find, precedes a flashback chapter. There you go._

 _9\. Remember, merciful Jesus,_

 _that I am the cause of Thy way:_

 _lest Thou lose me in that day._

 _10\. Seeking me, Thou sattest tired:_

 _Thou redeemedst [me], having suffered the Cross:_

 _let not so much hardship be in vain._

 _11\. Just Judge of vengeance,_

 _make a gift of remission_

 _before the day of reckoning._

 _12\. I sigh, like the guilty one:_

 _my face reddens in guilt:_

 _Spare the supplicating one, O God._

 _13\. Thou who absolvedst Mary,_

 _and heardest the robber,_

 _gavest hope to me, too._

 _14\. My prayers are not worthy:_

 _but do Thou, [who art] good, graciously grant_

 _that I not be burned up by the everlasting fire.))_

* * *

Recordare Iesu pie

 _Annie watched Nate's expression with anticipation and a small degree of nervousness. He cleared his throat. 'You're sure?'_

 _She nodded. 'Absolutely.'_

 _'_ _Really?'_

 _'_ _Yeah.' He blinked and stared. 'Nate? Nate say something. You're scaring me here.'_

 _Nate shook himself visibly. 'You know … I love you more than I can say.' He walked over to her and embraced her. 'I am so, so happy.'_

 _The tension in her chest eased. 'I really didn't think it would work anymore.'_

 _'_ _Me neither. Not after you had that accident. I was already wondering how I'd ask you if you were completely averse to adoption.'_

 _Annie pulled away a bit. 'You were?'_

 _'_ _Yes. But you were so devastated when Doc Fritha said we weren't likely to have kids of our own, I wanted that to … you know. Give you time.' He smiled. 'I'd have told you that as long as we're together, the rest is something we can manage. But apparently, we'll have our little family all right.'_


	2. Quod sum causa tuae viae

_Quod sum causa tuae viae_

He was dead. Dead, gone, deceased … Unbidden, an image from an ancient television show she'd seen once on a history night came up: a man in a petshop, banging a stiff parrot on the counter to prove to the salesclerk that it was indeed very dead. And Annie laughed. Tears streaming down her face, she slid down the pod that held her Nate and choked with hysterical laughter that wouldn't subside.

How long it took her to get herself together, she didn't know. Her watch was gone. Shakily, Annie got to her feet and trudged through the deathly silence. She found creatures as long as her arm that had no right to exist. The hysteria threatened to resurface, but she kept it down. Killing things was all right. No-one knew better how to kill things.

When she was outside and everything was barren, she kept it down. Survival in adverse conditions was also fine. She could do that.

When she found Codsworth back in Sanctuary, one thing that hadn't been destroyed and taken from her, she kept it down. If the bad hadn't cracked her open, the good wouldn't either.

But when she heard the words _200 years_ from the robot, she lost it. And this time, the darkness wouldn't go away. Not in Sanctuary, not in Concord, not even when she tried to distract herself with the village of her brand-new friend Preston's settlers.

Her life was gone. And no-one, absolutely no-one in this cock-up that called itself a world had any right to make demands of her.


	3. Ne me perdas illa die

_Ne me perdas illa die_

Deacon swore. He'd rarely lost a package, and every single damn time it happened he wanted to drown himself in the nearest river. Now was no different. He hadn't known the man, hadn't got the chance. But when he failed to reach his destination in Bunker Hill, Deacon got suspicious and did what he shouldn't. He went searching. And he found him. Held at gunpoint by a man and a woman in front of a falling hut. And there was the vault dweller he'd watched crawl out of vault 111. She was negotiating, he thought. Deacon decided to add his own voice to the exchange when it all went to hell. The vault dweller drew her gun and fired right into the package's face, the muzzle less than an inch from his forehead.

Deacon had seen many people die since _back then_. He knew by now that he would never get used to it, but this was a very special category of horrible. The man's face was gone as he sagged slowly to the ground. Even the two that had threatened him before looked shocked and decided to scram. The vault dweller looked at the corpse at her feet, her face expressionless and cold. She shrugged and said something so quiet Deacon didn't catch it and walked away, almost right past him, but she never noticed him there.

Maybe she was mad. Maybe she was lost in the face of the world. But this … this was just horrible.

He couldn't stay away. Mesmerised, he walked towards the body. He knelt down and looked at the mess that had once been a head. 'I am so, so sorry,' he said, his voice coming in a gasp. He looked around. Almost gently, he stood at the dead guy's shoulders and pulled him back into the wooden structure. With shaking hands, he set it on fire.

Deacon had never been religious. He'd never exactly been sure there wasn't … more, either. But he hoped for the poor sod that there was some nice, peaceful form of afterlife for all beings that were sentient. And deep inside, he hoped the same for himself as well, even if he deserved it a lot less.


	4. Quaerens me, sedisti lassus

_Quaerens me, sedisti lassus_

 _'_ _Hey. You.'_

 _John didn't normally respond to that kind of address. At least not nicely. 'What?' he asked, turning._

 _The woman in front of him flinched. 'You're not … by any chance selling these?'_

 _John eyed the tato plants she was ogling. 'Ah. No.'_

 _'_ _I guess … everyone needs to look after themselves. But I …'_

 _'_ _Look,' he said quickly. 'I'm not selling them because I've got to burn the lot. They have that weird mould kind of thing. Hard to explain. But I think I know what it is, at least. They used to call this mildew. Only this is its bigger, meaner, irradiated brother.'_

 _'_ _Well, normal mildew was mean enough. Killed nearly all of Ireland once.' Her voice was still quiet, but she didn't seem shy. She was just … calm._

 _'_ _Only that wasn't mildew. It was … wait, I read that.' He pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Potato blight! They called that potato blight.'_

 _'_ _Where d'you get that from?'_

 _John shrugged. 'Boston Public Library.'_

 _The woman shuddered. She was young, her face unlined and_ so _beautiful. John felt heat crawl up his neck. He didn't deserve to make conversation with her like he was a person. Only, of course, she didn't see the abyss that was his soul, so she did talk to him. And John … John was way too tired to stop her. 'I can't go there. Too many things around the place.'_

 _John swallowed drily. 'Yeah. You've got to know when to go, where to get in, and where not to set foot. And you need to be armed. And quiet. And damn fast.' He shuddered. 'Haven't been in a while. I fled with an entire knapsack on my last trip, though.'_

 _'_ _Not many people who'd go to these lengths just for some burning material.'_

 _John cringed as if he'd been hit. He was putting on a show about it, and he had success with it. She grinned. 'Ouch, woman, right in the heart. Never would I burn a book!'_

 _Her smile faltered when she looked at the tato plants again. 'Now what do I do, though.'_

 _John bit his lower lip. 'You got a name?'_

 _'_ _Yeah. Barbara Trinidad.'_

 _'_ _Cool name if ever there was one.' He smiled. 'You see, if I'm going to give away some of my crops, I do it only for someone I know by name. Now. I have no tatos, but I have melons, I have decent corn, some razorgrain, and my mutfruit is to die for. Also I have hubflowers you can distil into a perfume or, better yet, into booze. Though in this case, by "have them", I mean they grow around the place like weed, of course.'_

 _'_ _How much for … God, I don't know, whatever I can carry.'_

 _'_ _I can carry a bit more, I suppose.' She looked thin, now that he thought about it. No, he corrected himself, wiry. Much so. She might even give him a run for his money._

 _Her level gaze spoke volumes. 'I'd dare you to a wrestling match if I weren't exhausted.'_

 _'_ _What I was trying to say was that I can help you carry.'_

 _She snorted. 'Of course it was. How much?'_

 _'_ _I never tried, but I can lift a good fifty kilograms without any troubles.'_

 _'_ _How much do I need to pay, silly.'_

 _'_ _Hm.' John scratched his head. 'Hmmm. Nothing. I can't eat that much anyway. Where do I help you carry your stuff?'_

 _Trinidad licked her lips and looked away. Something was wrong. 'I … I'll come back for it.'_

 _John watched her turn and start to walk away. 'Hey. You've got nowhere to go, do you?' She stopped dead in her tracks and shook her head. 'Okay. Look. I can't offer much, but you can crash on my couch. And tomorrow … There's a settlement nearby, just off there, out of the wood. I'm sure they'll welcome you there. They're a nice enough bunch.'_

 _'_ _How far?'_

 _'_ _An hour or so through the woods, four on the road. I don't recommend the forest in the dark and the other way's too long.' He raised his hands. 'Oh God, I sound like a total creep. I'm not … are you scared of me?'_

 _She eyed him for almost a minute and he felt like her eyes were scanning his very soul. She'd find the darkness there, the evil he knew he harboured. But in the end a small smile tugged on her lips. 'I've got a feeling, I was rather lucky to run into you. I'll trust you. What's the worst you could do anyway?'_

 _John beamed at her. He held the door open and gestured inside. 'Will you walk into my parlour?' he asked._

 _For a second, Barbara stared at him before she burst into laughter. 'Well, that house of yours isn't high enough for a winding stair, so I'll just … hope not to be eaten, I guess.'_

 _'_ _Never fear. Now I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. I was just going to eat. Not you, though! You want something?'_

 _'_ _I wouldn't …'_

 _'_ _Have it your way. See if you can resist my cooking skills.'_


	5. Redemisti crucem passus

_Redemisti crucem passus_

'She needs to leave.' The voice of the man that had appeared behind the trio that had greeted her was harsh. She squinted at him, wondering if she'd seen him before. Dogmeat's reaction was similar. He pointed and sniffed in his direction.

'Stay,' Annie said quietly. If the white-haired bitch shot her dog, all hell would break loose in no time at all. 'What the fuck have I walked into now?' she asked aloud.

'You don't know?' The bitter-looking woman in the middle snorted. 'You don't know. Deacon?'

The man at the back had his arms folded. 'She works for the Institute. She needs to go now.' He glared at her. 'I recommend you to go quietly. We don't want your type here.'

'My … I want nothing to do with the Institute.'

'Yeah. Sure. You walk around murdering anything you don't get. Dez, she's killed a bunch of synths for no reason other than that they were there. And Nick's vanished, too.'

'Shall we even let her leave?' The white-haired one asked. 'I say let's end this.'

Deacon sighed. 'Hold your horses, Glory. This isn't what we are.'

She turned and glared at him. 'Have you looked at us, Deacon? We can't afford a disaster.'

'There will be no disaster,' Dez said sharply. 'You leave before I change my mind. Do not return here. You are not welcome.' She looked at Glory and her stance lost some of its aggression. 'Come on. We need to talk. Now.'

Ϡ

'Stop pacing.'

Dez didn't. 'Foolish. Why didn't you say something earlier?'

Deacon raised his arms. 'I didn't think she'd make it so far.' He frowned. 'She blundered so much out there. I didn't think she was bright enough, never mind that she'd even bother.' He turned away, grateful for his shades because they hid his fear. His face was burning with shame. His fault. If anything happened, if this woman destroyed what was left of them, it was his fault. He didn't think he'd survive that. 'We have to leave.'

'And go where?' Glory asked. The synth grabbed his shoulders and stared at him. 'Where, Deacon? There's only so many places we can hide in.'

Deacon tore himself away from her. 'Do you think I don't know that?' He swore quietly. 'God, Glory, I'm sorry. Castle's not an option. Trinity Tower's not an option. But …' he forced himself to calm down some. 'Look. There's Vault 114, for one thing. With the monster at the gates it's got its own defence. And it's been cleared out by the vault dweller before. So I doubt she'll be heading back there.'

Dez nodded slowly. 'Very well. At least for the moment, it's better than getting caught. Glory, you help Carrington organise the move.' It was a slight that she got the task rather than him, and it was meant that way. 'Deacon … Find Valentine. He's distracted more people away from us than we can count. We'll need him to keep doing that.'

'I haven't the faintest idea where he is, but I'll find him if he's alive.'

'What makes you doubt it?'

'That it was the vault dweller that rescued him. My guess is, she used him and got rid of him. Dez, she killed her first synth before she knew what they even are. You know, the one I lost a while back. Got caught by a bunch of guys, befriended them, and when they found out they decided to kill him. Annie went right on to do it for them.'

'Why?'

Deacon snorted. 'She's lost everything. She needed an enemy. And the first thing that gets presented to her on a golden plate is synths. It's so fucking easy.'

'It's still murder.'

Deacon huffed. 'You think I don't get that? I do, Dez.' More than they knew. 'I'm going to look for Nick.'

'Do that,' Dez said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. 'Come back here before nightfall. We can't wait longer than that, but I'd rather not lose you Deacon. Not now.'


	6. Tantus labor non sit cassus

_Tantus labor non sit cassus_

Deacon had his shirt pulled over his head. Not that it did much against the rain. He ducked into the office without knocking and leaned against the door. Being bred and born in the Commonwealth probably made him more resilient than any vault dwellers crazy enough to venture out into the open, but a radstorm still wasn't fun. 'Son of a bitch,' he muttered at the world outside and walked on towards the desk further inside. 'Oi, Ellie.'

The young woman looked up at him. 'Hi, Deacon.'

He sat without further invitation. 'You wouldn't know where Nick went, would you?'

She sighed. 'No. He informed me that he has to vanish for a bit, but he'll be back. Been only a few days.'

'Boy, and here I feared he was killed. Any idea whom he wanted to lose?'

'Sorry, no. Should I tell him you called?'

Deacon stood again. No point in lingering. 'No. I'll come back in a while. Any news?'

'Vault dweller moved into the city. She's having that weird guy with her. Silent type. He creeps me out. Came in a day ago and grilled me.'

Deacon swallowed. He had a seen him and knew what he was, what he had to be. 'Ellie, listen. Never talk to that man again, make sure you are armed, and if you see him, go somewhere open and public. He is very, very dangerous.'

'He gave me that vibe.'

Ϡ

The words Annie had read clamoured in her head. _Enough self-awareness to completely eliminate him …_ That combined with the child-synth that had greeted her with such real, raw emotion was enough for her to realise that she needed to get herself together. Without a courser shadowing her.

Didn't they say that she had quarters? Yes, they certainly did. Annie dismissed X6-88 with a short command and headed … well. Where, she wasn't sure. Everything here looked the same. Sterile. Dead. But she had no other options. There were none left.

For the third time, Annie ended up in the central corridor or hall or whatever they called it. Two men were huddled in a corner under a tree. They would know the way.

'What do you mean, lost?' one of the two asked. Something made Annie stay out of their sight.

'I have no contact. Nothing. I … I'm afraid they're gone. Finished.'

'No. Liam, they were our only hope.'

The other man shook his head. 'I know. I'm so sorry, but I have no-one on the surface I can reach.' He turned away from the synth and jumped when he saw her. 'Can I help you?'

She looked from one to the other. 'I'm supposed to have quarters. I'm not sure where I'll find them.'

Liam nodded slowly. 'We'll find out.' He headed to one of the terminals, Annie close at his heels.

'What do you need from the surface?'

'Nothing.'

'What _is_ going on here? Up there, everyone is scared of synths. Here, the synths are scared!'

'I'm not discussing this. Maybe you should speak with SRB.'

'Sure, any time I want to be fed more lies.' A thought struck her. 'You wouldn't know anything about a group called the Railroad?'

'I know that they steal our synths.'

'I'm a history person. There was a Railroad before. A long time ago. They freed slaves.'

Liam simply shrugged. 'No idea. Look. If you want to speak to the Railroad, knock yourself out. But don't think for a moment I'm going to help you do so.'

'Look. That guy, the one you were talking to, you sounded like he's your friend, so I'm trying to get an answer from you. I'd like a different opinion to the one I've been fed from everyone else. But the Railroad refuse to speak to me.'

'They'll have their reasons.' He stepped away from the terminal. 'Look here. To find your quarters that's where you got to go.'


	7. Iuste iudex ultionis

_Iuste iudex ultionis_

 _Annie was staring at the boy on the bench. As always, he was sitting by himself, watching her and the other kids play. 'Who's he?' she asked._

 _Nate followed her glance and shrugged. 'Dunno. His name's Vincent. But Justin says he's weird. Like, he screams when stuff's not going his way. He seems happy over there.'_

 _Annie didn't think he looked happy. 'I think he's lonely.'_

 _'_ _But he's weird.'_

 _Annie gave Nate a level look. He was her best friend, but sometimes he was a moron. 'You're weird too, with your ridiculous wooden structures that litter you mum's house. I'm going to talk to him.' Annie approached and Vincent froze. She could see the tension in him, his downcast eyes. 'Hi,' she said when she stood in front of him. The boy did look at her then. Too intensely for comfort. Annie stood her ground. 'I'm Annie. This is Nate.' She indicated the empty spot beside her and noticed her mistake too late. She turned half to glare at Nate. 'Nope. That's Nate, the git back there, actually.'_

 _A smile tugged at Vincent's lips. 'You don't have to talk to me. No one else does.'_

 _'_ _Huh. Why? Nate says you're weird.' She tilted her head. 'You_ are _weird. Do you know any weird games?'_

 _Vincent shrugged. His gaze had left Annie's face. She wasn't sure why, but it didn't really matter. 'No. Your games are weird. They make no sense, running around. Completely random.'_

 _'_ _What does make sense, then?'_

 _'_ _I've got a card game. Happy Families.'_

 _Annie had never heard of anyone bringing a card game to a playground, but then Nate had once brought a whole heap of paper and glue to build God-knew-what in the forest his parents owned. 'Yeah, I know that. Oi! Nate, get over here. You can sulk later.'_


	8. Donum fac remissionis

_Donum fac remissionis_

Deacon had tried to find Nick Valentine for over a week. He had even tried Sanctuary. His last desperate hope was Goodneighbor, but there was only Mayor Hancock telling him that the synth hadn't been seen in a very long time. The memory den was closed, adding to Deacon's sense of despair. At least Hancock seemed to be unconcerned about Amari, claiming she'd said she had to close for a couple of days only.

Deacon's next stop was Vault 114. He walked towards it through the stench of decay. A stray feral attacked him, but he made short work of it. The shot from his pistol echoed loudly in the underground structure, making him yearn for the Deliverer, one of so many things they had left behind. Never mind the people. So many good people.

He shook himself and entered the vault itself. The eerie silence and stench were present here, too. And there was something else. Something other than the quiet of death. Deacon approached one of the doors. It slid open as he neared. The Gen1 behind it didn't react to the sound. That probably meant there were more and their attention was on something else. Heart beating like a sledgehammer, Deacon bolted, running so hard he nearly fled right into the pond outside. And a nasty, dark voice asked him if that would have been so bad.

Ϡ

'What the hell do you want from me?' The journalist stood in the door, blocking Annie's entrance. 'There's nothing left to say.'

A part of her wanted to turn and walk. The part that had held her in its grasp ever since she'd stepped out of the freezing hell she'd been subjected to. But that part – which had so far ensured her survival – was failing her more and more. The day before, she'd suddenly thought about the kid in their neighbourhood she'd befriended as a girl. She and Nate and Vince had become thick as thieves, although Vince had always been closer to her. Even their work had brought them to the same place. Stricken by the fact that Vince, too, must be dead, Annie had scoured what remained of her house to look for the friendship bracelet Vince had made her, but of course it was gone. And that had managed what Nate's death hadn't. She felt alone. Forsaken and in need of company, someone who would give her a chance after she'd managed to make an enemy out of almost everyone she'd met.

Dogmeat whined at her feet, a pitiful sound that echoed her own emotions. 'I'm …' She paused, fighting tears. 'I've fucked up _everything_. I've found my son. Isn't that something for your paper? Don't you need a story anymore?'

For a few seconds Piper stared at Annie. Then, she shook her head and stepped aside. 'Come inside then.' She huffed. 'Get it out of your system and then you can be on your way.'

When Annie was done telling Piper about Father and about the child-synth Shaun, the journalist didn't kick her out immediately. 'I can't even publish that. They'll think I've lost it completely.'

Annie couldn't answer. At which point she'd finally, finally cracked and started crying between her words she wasn't sure, but somehow the anger that had provided her with strength wouldn't return. Something told her it wasn't going to any time soon.

'God, Blue. What do I do with you?' Annie merely shook her head. 'Right. Let's see. What do you _want_? That would be a starting point.'

'I want to … I want to help.'

'Yeah. Right. Whom? The Institute? Go on, they'll have plenty for you to do.'

'Fuck the Institute.' She looked at Piper. 'They're _vile_. They're slavers! They're …'

'Hold it.' She leaned closer. 'I remember a woman who left a trail of blood and pain in her wake, who killed anything that might be a synth. Shot a guy right in Diamond City because he was accused of being a synth before even the guards could. Who are you?' She tilted her head. 'Is this you? Then what was the other?'

'Scared.' Finally, she levelled her gaze at Piper. 'Scared out of her wits.'

'Now you're not?'

'I've lost it all. I … I am the creator of all that's wrong, because I'm the mother of the greatest _whoreson_ of the Commonwealth and because I fucked up everything I started. I need to put something right.'

'You can't do that alone, Blue.' She smiled. For the first time since they'd met, Piper Wright smiled at her. 'Let's see if pooling all the information we have doesn't leave us with a starting point. So. What do you know about the Institute, about those lunatics with their airship, about … anything really. Spill.'

'Piper.'

'Yeah?'

'I … Thank you. Thank you so much.'

'Don't yet. Do it after we've actually got somewhere, all right? All right.'


	9. Ante diem rationis

_Ante diem rationis_

The Railroad, Deacon had to get used to the thought, was history. His one shot at redeeming himself had gone up in smoke. The imprint he'd made on the world was one of death and betrayal. He didn't even feel sad. All he felt was dead.

He nearly missed the almost washed-off sign on the wall of a fallen down building. Eight radial lines, hastily drawn as four crossing lines and wiped down in the middle. And a barely visible plus sign between them. _Ally._ This was new. He sure hadn't seen it before. Frantic, Deacon looked for a door. He found none. Climbing the rubble, he discovered a light shaft. 'Hello?' he called down. There was no answer. Well. He had nothing to lose. Hands shaking, Deacon lowered himself through the small hole, sliding a short way before he landed on the ground. If there were ferals here, he was dead. He didn't see anywhere near enough to shoot properly. 'Hello?' he tried again.

'All right. Put your hands up slowly, state your name and business and no-one gets hurt. You can't see in the dark, but I do, so don't even think about it.'

Relief flooded Deacon, relief so violent he let out a sound that sounded horribly like a sob. 'Nick. Oh, God Nick, it's Deacon. Don't kill me.'

A light flickered on and the synth approached with a candle. 'Did anyone follow you?'

'No. I need you. I need you so badly.'

'Calm down, lad. I … have little I can offer you. I don't need any supplies, you see.'

'I don't want supplies from you. I need to find … friends of mine. They're missing.'

'Friends.'

'Yes.' Deacon took a deep breath. 'Look. I'll level with you here. There's things you don't know about me.'

'Really.' Nick's voice was dry. 'Do you mean the murder things or the Railroad things?'

Deacon gaped at the synth. 'What the hell?'

'Long ago I was asked to look into this young fellow who'd just lost his wife. You think the Railroad never came to me? They didn't tell me what they were, but it wasn't that hard to figure out.'

'Who knows?' Deacon managed to choke out.

'Of those that still live? Only Desdemona, I believed. She was the one that was sent to me.'

'Nick. They're gone. They're no longer where we went after we were almost wiped out, and I cannot for the life of me guess where the hell they moved on to.'

'Wouldn't they have left you hints?'

'If they had the time and an opportunity to do that without taking a huge risk. We lost contact with a bunch of people after the last time we had to run, too. It happens. They found their way back after a bit, but I don't have time.' He glace up at the hole he had come through and wondered if this was the only way in and out. 'What are you hiding from?'

'A courser.'

'That's what I thought. Annie … that damned vault dweller.'

Nick hesitated. 'Well. She wasn't with him when he came over. I doubt she'd want me hurt.' He raised his hands. 'I know you have your eyes everywhere, but I have a feeling she's starting to regret a lot of the things she did and said. That might sound familiar.'

'Don't compare me to her.'

'And why not?' Nick snuffed his light. 'While I do trust you to a point, I don't think I need anyone knowing too much about the structure of this place. Come on. Time to venture out into the open.' He grabbed Deacon's wrist. 'I'm not letting you trip, Deacon.'

Ϡ

'Are you sure they were here?' Piper asked. Her voice echoed among the stones, cast back as a more terrified whisper than the woman likely felt.

'No. The huge thing spelling Railroad must be a coincidence.'

'All right. Let's take a look.'

'Careful. They're armed. Heavily.'

'They didn't shoot you on sight, so they must be nice enough.'

'Ha ha.' Despite herself, a smile tugged at Annie's lips. 'Piper.'

'Yeah. I know. Stop thanking me already.'

'Wasn't going to. I was about to warn you.'

'About what?'

'About that. Hello? Anyone there? Dez? Glory?'

'Are you insane?'

'Maybe.' They waited for almost a minute. 'No-one's coming.'

'No. Let's go on. They must be there, at the end of that passage. Look. A door.'

'Can you open it?'

'Pff. Are you kidding? There. After you.'


	10. Ingemisco tamquam reus

_Ingemisco tamquam reus_

 _He held the book in his hands and removed the marker almost reverently from where Barbara had put it the night before. As he did every other day, he sat himself down on the armchair, his legs under him, with a blanket thrown over him. This day was different. Barbara wasn't waiting for him to read – or to shut up so she could read to him – but curled on her side and facing away from him. He knew she hadn't expected him to come home. And he almost hadn't. He'd gone through feelings of betrayal and anger and grief in quick succession, had resolved to get drunk or high and jump off the highest building he could find and had done none of it._

 _Instead, he had decided that he wasn't going to feel all hard done by. And then it had hit him that he had no reason to grieve. He had lost nothing. She was there. She was Barbara, his Barbara, and nothing could change that he loved her more than he'd ever thought he was able._

 _He licked his lips. '_ A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other _,' he started reading. He saw her tense out of the corner of his eye, but he wasn't going to look at her. He'd cry if he did. Not because of the news the weird young doctor in Goodneighbor had given them, but because he knew that this was harder for her than for him. Bravely, he continued reading. '_ A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it! _' He did look now and promptly lost every mind he'd had for the book when he saw the tears running down her cheeks._

 _'_ _Are you out of your mind?' she asked, walking towards him in slow steps. Her eyes were wide, almost frightened and he wanted nothing more than to get that look off her face, to tell her she had nothing to fear and nothing to cry over._

 _'_ _I've never been saner in my life. I love you.'_

 _'_ _I'm … I'm a … thing!'_

 _This was way more than he was prepared to listen to. He placed the marker in the book again and sat it down before walking over to her to meet her where she'd halted. 'Hold right there. You are not a thing. So you're a synth, assuming that person even knew what she was saying. But more importantly, you're my wife. You're a person. I adore you. I want you. I need you. I don't care what you are except Barbara, the woman I fell in love with for so many reasons I'd need a lifetime to list them.' He was a little surprised himself that he meant every word._

 _At first he thought she'd protest, dig herself deeper into the abyss of self-hatred he knew so well, but then Barbara stood on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth. 'Then go on, love,' she said, her voice catching. 'Read to me as if this didn't make a difference.'_

 _He smiled at her. 'I swear to you that it doesn't and one day you'll believe me. I'm going to show you. But something has to be different today.' He saw the uncertainty, but only for a moment. Then there was that glint in her eyes, that silent joy she reserved for him alone. Dim but there. He took her face into his hands and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste, loving kiss. 'You are not going to have that couch for yourself today.' He sat down and pulled her into his lap with her back against his chest. Then he wrapped the blanket around them both, opened the book on her lap, and continued reading over her shoulder. The world was all right. They were all right. And a shadow in his soul fled for good from her light._

* * *

 _((The book, if it needs saying, is_ A Tale of Two Cities _by Charles Dickens.))_


	11. Culpa rubet vultus meus

_Culpa rubet vultus meus_

Deacon hesitated when he heard voices. 'I'm telling you, Nick, she means business.' When he recognised the reporter, he almost turned, but decided against it. These two hung out a lot recently. He wasn't sure if he liked it.

'Hi,' he said crisply, stepping into Nick's office. 'Miss Wright. Nick.'

'Oh.' Nick looked at him as if he was taking his measure. 'Good to see you. I have a request. I am close to solving your problem, I believe, and I can think of no-one better for mine.'

Deacon frowned. 'I'm not sure if I'm curious or scared.'

'No need for fear. I need a second opinion. I want you to shadow someone. Look what they do, how they do it, and tell me if they can be trusted.' He smiled. 'You might gain an asset.'

'Where are they, why would they want to help me of all people, and just how close are we talking about?'

Nick smiled. It wasn't the encouraging smile he'd given Deacon when he felt ready to fling himself off Trinity Tower – which was saying something about him. Nor was it the wry grin the detective sometimes had when someone thought to outsmart him. It was slow and warm and very genuine. 'I'll answer those backwards, all right? I have a relatively vague idea, but if you come to the same conclusion, I'll be confident enough to let you go there. Why my subject wants to help eludes me. Where … Well. Try Sanctuary if Annie Marshall isn't home.'

Deacon blinked. 'The vault dweller?'

'No. He means the other Annie Marshall everyone's talking about. Deacon, you're a good guy, but you're not too bright. Nick, do we seriously send a city guard after her?'

'Oh, you're wrong there, Piper.' Nick's gaze was fixed on Deacon in a rather unsettling manner. He wanted him to do something, but Deacon had no idea what. 'Deacon here is quite brilliant and a lot more than just a city guard.'

Piper huffed. 'Unless he can conjure the Railroad out of his scrawny butt, not brilliant enough.'

Years of schooling his face into one of indifference paid off in that moment. He would have bought his own shock, he thought. 'The Railroad? You mean they're really out there?'

Piper looked at him the way she might look at a particularly dense child. Or dog. Dense dog, most likely. 'Yes. They're really out there. And I need them, Nick. What's more, she needs them. And they'd better listen, because she's not who we both thought she was. She's a good person.'

'Well. Deacon, find out if that's true. Tail Annie. Report to me please. Piper … Deacon's run afoul of her before. If he agrees with you, that's saying something. Before he does, I find it too good to believe, even if I had similar suspicions.'

Ϡ

Annie and Piper's search had been completely futile. The journalist had promised to find out whatever she could. Apparently she knew someone who knew someone. Once she was done, she'd contact Annie at her home. As a precaution, Annie sent X6-88 off to defend the Red Rocket Truck station. She'd sent several people there, among others Trashcan Carla, whose name had shown up among others on an Institute Terminal. She considered collecting her enemies there and just nuking the place.

Annie herself returned to Sanctuary after what felt like an eternity. She helped out Preston Garvey. The Minuteman seemed surprised but didn't question her change of mind overly much. She found Cait in a state close to death, only to find out that the woman hadn't actually overdosed, but quite the contrary. She dragged Cait into the middle of no-where to help her get clean, wondering how she hadn't cared before.

And somehow, every time she visited Sanctuary, her eyes were drawn up the hill to the vault she had come out of.

Ϡ

With every day that passed, the image Deacon had of Annie changed more. He'd thought she was violent, sociopathic, and sadistic. Now she showed compassion and kindness to an addict, to Preston's ridiculously foolish settlers, to goddamn baby deathclaws. She also seemed happy. Well, happy-ish. She suddenly had people with her, from time to time. Mostly Cait or some mercenary type, but one day she convinced Hancock to follow her out of Goodneighbor, and to Deacon's surprise, the ghoul went with her.

The next time she walked away alone without even Dogmeat, Deacon followed her with a sense of foreboding. Her steps went away from Sanctuary rather erratically, but the final destination became clear after a while: Vault 111. Deacon watched as she vanished down the elevator. And rather than hiding, he sat down at the edge of the platform and waited.

Ϡ

When the elevator came back up, Annie didn't even see him at first. She walked … stumbled a few paces before sinking to the floor in a heap. Deacon heard her sob and approached quietly. He crouched less than an arm's reach from her. 'Reckless,' he said softly. She didn't even jump much. When her eyes settled on his he saw the recognition.

'Have your people sent you to kill me after all?'

It was tempting to go along with this, but Deacon refrained. 'No. I'm watching you.'

She spread her arms. 'Like what you see? Go on. I'm unarmed, we're alone. Have your way.'

The remark shouldn't hurt, but for some reason it did. 'Sorry to disappoint. Not going to hurt you.' He gestured to the platform with his chin. 'So. What's the deal? What were you doing in there?'

She swallowed. 'I asked N…Nate to forgive me for turning into a monster.'

'The dead tend to forgive so easily it isn't all that satisfying.'

'You sound like you know the feeling.'

Deacon pressed his lips together. He wasn't going to go there. Not ever. 'I'd like to show you something. Please come with me.' He led the way up to the small camp with just a chair and a bit of junk. 'See this?' he asked and pointed.

'Saw this the first day I came out.'

'This,' he said, folding his arms, 'is a railsign. It's how we – the Railroad – communicate. It means "ally".' He turned away. 'We've kept an eye on that vault for a very long time now. We didn't think anyone would come out, not anymore. But there was a time where we figured anyone surviving this might be a friend to us.' He looked at the sign. 'Are you, Annie? Or are you my enemy? I don't think so, somehow. Not anymore.'

'I need the Railroad.'

'I heard. It doesn't answer my question. Do you want to find us to wipe us out?'

Annie's eyes were large and green. 'I need the Railroad. Or someone else does. He's at the Institute and planning some sort of great escape. A synth. I talked to him.'

'Why would I believe you?'

'Because … Because …' She deflated visibly. 'There is no reason. I just … I've caused so much pain. I want to … I need to do something good.'

'You reckon helping synths is something good? Since when?'

'I don't know. But I know that the Brotherhood is mental, the Institute is a monstrosity, and the Minutemen are toothless. You're my only option. The only ones who won't cause more pain than they must.'

'Don't mistake us for pacifists, Annie.' He looked down at Sanctuary. 'If you truly want to help us, come with me. It will be dangerous, and it will be horrible. Help me recover something we have lost. If you do this, I'll have some ground on which I can vouch for you. And believe you me, without that you're not getting past Glory, God bless her.'


	12. Supplicanti parce, Deus

_Supplicanti parce, Deus_

The stench of decay was probably oppressive, but Annie had no way of noticing it. She had foregone her power armour, only to come across one just outside the building Deacon had led them to. She had asked to take someone else with her, and he had agreed the moment she had let on that she wanted Nick Valentine there. Apparently they knew each other. Valentine had agreed, but Annie was wondering if that wasn't more for Deacon's benefit than hers, and she couldn't blame him. Boy, had she fucked up.

'You're awfully quiet in there,' the synth said as they watched Deacon hack one of the many computers.

She made a gesture that encompassed the room they were in. 'These people were slaughtered. And I worked for them.'

'You didn't do this, Annie.' Nick sounded sympathetic. 'You need to keep it together.'

'How is he keeping it together? He knows these people by name, every time we come across a rotting corpse he tells me who they were and what they did. How can he stand it?'

Nick's gaze, resting on Deacon, was wistful. Annie would never have thought he was capable of that much expression before now. 'He can stand it because this needs to be done and because no-one else is going to.'

'What about Glory, though? She looks like she can handle it.'

'I want Glory to keep her innocence,' Deacon answered without looking at them. 'Don't get me wrong, she knows how to kill things just fine, but this would haunt her forever.' The computer gave a satisfying bleep and a door next to him opened. 'Glory, you see, is a much better person than I am and much more valuable.'

'Don't sell yourself short, Deacon,' Nick said gently.

Deacon met his eye in a wordless exchange. 'Anyway. We're nearly there. Let's move.'

'What are we looking for even?'

'A prototype.'

'For what?' She shrugged, which was futile, of course because such a small movement didn't really translate to the power armour. 'If you don't trust me, why take me here at all?'

'For starters, because you cannot possibly trace us from anything you find in here.' Deacon took a deep breath. 'There are two things I want. I want the prototype Carrington developed. It's kind of a stealth boy, but modified. And I also want a gun. Before you get smart, I want a specific gun.' A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 'And to show you that, in fact, I do trust you as much as possible in the current situation, I'm going to give said gun to you. You're going to love it.'


	13. Qui Mariam absolvisti

_Qui Mariam absolvisti_

 _Annie thought back to Vincent's letter. The fact that they had been close friends since childhood did nothing to diminish her respect for him. Professionally, their and Nate's lives had taken different turns. Nate had gone to law school, while Annie had turned to the military. She's known Vince had started there a few years before her, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought he'd be her commander._

 _Now, for the first time, she wished he wasn't. It was easy in the field, to ignore their closeness and just follow his orders. It didn't hurt that she trusted him implicitly, but she doubted she would have been any less professional with anyone else. And for him, it was easy, too. He didn't do favouritism. It simply wasn't in his nature. For Vince, their friendship didn't enter into the equation. When they were in uniform, they were soldiers. That was sometimes hard for her, but for him it didn't seem so. He was the same to everyone. Stern, demanding, efficient, and borderline ruthless. Annie wouldn't have had it any other way._

 _His letter called her back in for duty, and refusing would have been easier if it wasn't Vince. Her door rang, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat. He stood there, his expression as distanced as always, but she knew better. 'Come in, Vince. Tea?'_

 _'_ _You asked me to come for a reason. Please get to it. If you want to chat, I'll have to take a rain check.'_

 _He was wearing civvies, so right now, he wasn't her commander. Just Vince. 'Look. I've wanted to tell you in person. I'm not coming back. I'm pregnant.'_

 _His eyebrows shot up. 'Did you mean to?'_

 _'_ _I didn't avoid it.'_

 _He sighed. 'How long do you plan to take maternity leave?'_

 _'_ _We both know the rules, Vince. I don't intend to take a shorter leave than is my right.'_

 _'_ _Understood.' He shrugged. 'I will see you back on duty, Annie, if that is your concern.'_

 _'_ _Did I think that you might kick me out of your division for some reason I'm sure you could find if you looked hard? Well, maybe. You can be a hardass. No offence.'_

 _Vince shook his head. 'None taken. I can find a reason for every single soldier, if I look hard. Not going to happen. Be safe Annie. All three of you.'_


	14. Et latronem exaudisti

_((This riddle was inspired in part by_ Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire _, specifically the mermaids' song, and in part by the quest_ The Regent's Riddle _in_ Vampire: the Masquerade – Bloodlines _. Feel free to work it out.))_

* * *

 _Et latronem exaudisti_

 _'_ _Come find us where the paths diverge,_

 _Where mundane and divine will merge._

 _Avoid the crawl down to the dark,_

 _No transport there, no light, no spark._

 _Go near the nurturing, the kind,_

 _Into the place with forms sans mind.'_

Annie had read it out loud. 'Deacon, I haven't the faintest idea what this is about.'

'This,' Deacon said, 'arrived at Nick's office in the dead of night, all by itself.'

'This is from the Railroad.'

'I hope so.' He licked his lips. 'Look. They knew I was going to look for Nick, and until recently he was hiding from your Courser. When he was back in his office, they got this to him.'

'And he gave it to you.'

'With a warning to be cautious. This might be a trap.'

'A trap.' Annie echoed. 'Deacon. If I want you to walk into a trap, I'd give you a chance to find it in the first place.'

'I have a pretty good idea where they are.' He looked at her. 'This is a test of your abilities. You found us once, using a trail and endurance. This is a test of knowledge, mostly of this beautiful ruin of a city. We need people who can handle both, not brute force. I'll help you with the bit that's so specifically meant for me, though.'

'Well.' She looked at it. 'Forms sans mind … they mean human shapes, I suppose, but not synths. I mean, they can't hide among Gen-1s, and the others aren't mindless. I doubt they'd hide among ferals. Stop grinning, Deacon!'

'I'm not … Just go on.'

'Right. The nurturing … A kindergarten? Or a school.'

'Nope.'

'Then … hang on. A hospital.'

'Better.'

'Crawl down to the dark … an old subway station is down in the dark, and it doesn't have a transport because it's all broken.

'Excellent.'

'Mundane and divine will merge? No idea.'

'Try the first line. That's easier.'

'Where the paths diverge. A crossroads, not a figurative one, but a literal crossroads.'

'Now the second line was easy for me. The divine … Are you familiar with literature?'

'Um. Yes.'

'Oooh, we've _got_ to have a chat one day. Now this was directed at me, and they know my love for older literature. This references a classic. I'll help. Epic poem. 17th Century.'

'A poem about the mundane and the divine. Faust? As in Marlowe's? Not really an epic poem, though. Hang on. Paradise Lost!'

Deacon beamed at her. 'Good one. Now get that into context.'

Annie scratched her head. 'We're looking for a place near a crossroads or intersection that has something to do with Paradise Lost in some weird manner. It's close to a hospital and it has human shapes that aren't people.' Her eyes narrowed. 'There's also an intersection and a subway station. Um.' She closed her eyes, visualising Boston, or what was left of it. 'Hospitals … There's the Medford Memorial. Then the Kendall and the Milton and …' Her eyes snapped open. 'Milton. Son of a bitch.' Deacon laughed, and Annie smacked him. 'Oh God. But it's not _in_ the hospital. What else … the parking garage?'

'Why don't you go and look?'

She crumpled the paper. 'Oh, I will. And you're coming with me.'

'Good plan, unless you want to be shot on sight. You want to get in alive, you need me.' He must have seen the concern on her face because he reached out and ruffled her hair. 'Aw, Annie. It'll be fine. I can't promise you that they'll be overly friendly at first, but if you give them a chance to get to know you, like you did for me, they'll come round.'

'Like you did?'

The left corner of Deacon's mouth twitched into a lopsided smile. 'Yep. Just like I did.' He gave her one final ruffle for good measure before letting her lead the way.


	15. Mihi quoque spem dedisti

_Mihi quoque spem dedisti_

Annie felt calm. As calm as she always had in her old life, in the field. The detached calm that would save her life if things shouldn't go as planned. She stood bent over the terminal. As she turned away, she kept her mind on the countdown. Justin Ayo stood seven seconds from the door. She had a clear path. She could do this. In half a minute, the door would lock, and in order to open it again, they would have to hack their own terminal. If anything went wrong, she was dead. She knew that Liam and his charges were safe, so this wouldn't cause a catastrophe for them.

With a few quick steps, Annie reached Ayo. She listened to him talking to her, nodded, but had no time to listen. Her hand travelled to her pocket. They trusted her. Father, and the SRB. Fifteen seconds. Annie's hand closed on the Deliverer. She leaned behind Ayo, looking over his shoulder at the terminal in front of him. Twelve seconds. A quick glance, no-one behind her, no-one between her and the door. Ten seconds. Her hand travelled up to his neck, careful not to alert him. Eight seconds. The shot was quiet, but audible in the confined space. Annie ran. The door whistled shut behind her, blocking the sound of the scientists.

At the same time, she knew, Danse had gathered a few people in the Red Rocket Truck station – X6-88 and the spies she had identified with the computers in the SRB. She had told them that he would deliver her orders while she was working at the Institute. People were used to him barely leaving his power armour, so they wouldn't be suspicious. Rather than announce anything, however, he would set off a mini nuke in the confined space, hidden in one of the overturned trash cans serving as seats. She had instructed him to sit X6 down directly on it to be sure he was dead, the rest would die from the blast or the powerful radiation.

She made it to the elevator unchallenged. Only when its doors closed, she saw the guards coming. Too late. She waved pleasantly. 'Until the next time,' she said with a smile.

* * *

 _((I did this similarly (identical isn't possible in the game for several reasons), once, when I went for the Minutemen ending with the BoS and the Railroad in a shaky peace. You've got to get kicked out of the Institute for that, and I decided to make one shot count. I was torn between Father and Ayo and decided for the latter. Although getting out was a bitch.))_


	16. Preces meae non sunt dignae

_Preces meae non sunt dignae_

 _John screamed. He screamed and sobbed and struggled against the four men, barely able to hold him. He wanted to look away as they didn't just kill Barbara, but took their own sweet time. Their promise to him was to let him live. He wished they wouldn't. Barbara was face-down on the bed, her face on the pillow. She had stopped fighting a while ago – minutes or hours, he couldn't say, but he hoped that she had at least passed out while a man he had once called a friend pressed her head down and dug a knife into her neck, probably looking for a chip. He had no idea if they had any chance of finding anything, he didn't want to know._

 _He saw the thin blade sinking deep between her spine and the base of her skull and all the strength bled out of him. Barbara shuddered and lay still. John heard the UPD talk, but he couldn't process their words. He had slumped to the ground when he was released. He crawled over to their bed, crawled up and cradled her body with his as if he could give her his life. He would have, if he could._

 _Ϡ_

 _'_ _You there. Yes, you.' He turned. A tall, thin man stood in the hallway of the Rexford. Behind him, a woman. Short and stout and with an expression close to animosity. Her hand was on the handle of a gun. A bodyguard if ever there was one. 'You did a job for us, and I'd like to pay you.'_

 _'_ _I've got no time for muggers,' John said quietly. He was running low on Calmex and he needed to get some. He really couldn't deal with withdrawal right now. 'So unless you've got something useful to say, I've got things to do.'_

 _The other man's expression became something close to a smirk. 'We are aware of what you do all day long. Believe me. But it just so happens that you have done us a huge favour, which is why I am having this conversation with you. We can do with a man like you.'_

 _'_ _A man like me. I'm a failure.'_

 _'_ _You killed the University Point Deathclaws. That makes you a possible asset. If you don't addle your brain completely.'_

 _'_ _You have no idea who I am, do you?'_

 _'_ _Ah. We know enough.' The man shrugged. 'There's an envelope with some bottle caps and a small supply of addictol in your room. That is your payment. Will you tell me why you took out the UPD? It looked like revenge.'_

 _'_ _It was.' John's voice was strained. 'They murdered my wife.' He really needed a shot. If they continued, he'd need two to get rid of the image that haunted him ever since that day._

 _'_ _I see. If you believe that people like your wife should be saved, look for me. We protect them from the guards in Diamond City, from bigots like the UPD, and from the Institute itself. We help them hide and escape. It seems you might be interested in joining us. Have a nice day.'_

 _The man turned to leave and John stared after him for a few moments before his head kicked into gear. 'Hang on. Where would I even find you?'_

 _'_ _Where you wouldn't go to buy something for a coffee break.'_

 _'_ _Er. What?'_

 _The bodyguard snorted, but the man looked at him again, a smile twitching on his lip. 'I can hardly draw you a map. You have to earn it.' He tapped a finger to his temple. 'Keep your head clear and you'll find out. I could try and give you another hint, but that would include rather crude sexual puns, and we're too grown up for that, now aren't we?'_


	17. Sed to bonus, fac benigne

_Sed to bonus, fac benigne_

'Bet you … noodles at Takahashi that I'd end up dead.'

'Keep the noodles.'

Deacon looked over at Nick and started laughing. 'Sorry. Ah. What, then?'

'I want to see you walk up on top of Trinity Tower and wave at me.'

'That's when you woke up and noticed that the bed was wet.'

'As likely as the noodles.'

'Well …' He scratched at his scalp. 'I know! I'll tell you …'

'No, spare me!' Nick laughed. 'No lies as a reward.'

'Cruel synth.'

'Anyway, little need to discuss what you'll do. I actually agree. You'd end up dead.' He lowered his voice. 'So how scared were you when she showed up and announced she was supposed to kill the Railroad?'

'On a scale from one to ten? Minus five, at that point.' He scowled. 'I'm not used to trusting people, but she did it.'

'Well. I didn't expect her to go and start shooting people at the Institute all of a sudden either.'

Deacon snorted. 'I can imagine her doing just that, though. And her fuck-it-all attitude when she went to Preston and told him what she'd done was priceless. You should've seen it.'

'So where is she right now?'

'No idea. Showing little Shaun Vault 81, I suppose. Makes sense. There's kids in there.' He looked up at Nick. 'One of the first places I went with her. Maybe that was what convinced me. She got bitten by one of those rat buggers. And … Nick, before all that shit went down, she'd have taken the cure for herself, and I half thought she would, but no. Without a blink she gave it up for the poor boy.'

'She'd never have forgiven herself.'

'No.' Deacon shrugged. 'She knows a lot about me, Nick. What you know.'

'Not from me.'

A smiled tugged at Deacon's lips. 'No. From me. It felt … good to talk about it all.'

'I think you should do it, Deacon.'

'I knew it! You want me to die a horrible death!'

'I want you to leave the past where it belongs. I have to bury mine, and I'll have to claim Wanderer for that for a while. Unless you'd be jealous.'

'Of you?' Deacon smiled. 'Nah. You wouldn't do that to me.'

'Probably not. Talk to her, Deacon. Tell her the truth. She likes you a lot.'

'Not enough.'

Nick grinned. 'Well. I suggest you get a move on if you want to find out.'

'What? Why?'

'Because Piper listened to all this. And she's going to spill.'

Deacon jumped to his feet, staring down at Nick. 'You're evil! You knew that!'

Nick laughed. 'Hold your horses, kid. Just catch her before Piper manages. And good luck.'


	18. Neperenni cremer igne

_Neperenni cremer igne_

Annie worried at a hole in her sleeve. 'I have nothing that isn't somehow frayed or torn,' she said wistfully. 'Nothing.'

Deacon sat on the most comfortable chair she had found in the Commonwealth and dragged into home plate. 'Look at the lot of us. You'll find this is how things are.'

'We should build a loom.'

'A … loom.'

'Yes. To make clothes.'

'Make clothes.'

Annie pointed a finger at Deacon. 'This is why I always say, don't eat parrots. Not even once.' She shrugged. 'We're living off of the stuff from before the war, and one day, it's all going to be gone or broken.' Shaking herself, she cast about for something to write on. 'We need … we need to find schematics for various … I don't know. Looms. And spindles. And …'

'Books. Boston Public Library, you and me, now. We need to find books that tell us how to do any of that. And … if we manage to attract more people to the settlements, we can have them do other things than farming. We'll have some farmers, some builders, some cloth making people, and if we pool the food and their goods …'

'We're basically communists.'

'What?'

'Never mind. Just … let's make sure that no-one's left behind in this.'

'Are you comparing me to Stalin?'

'I'm not comparing you to anyone.' She smiled. 'You're right, Deacon. Don't fret. Just … let's make sure that someone who does a lot is rewarded in some way. And if we manage to do that without letting the people who're old or dumb suffer, that's great.'

'That was actually the plan.' He swallowed, opened his mouth and closed it.

'Deacon. Talk. You've been weird since Shaun and I came back.'

'I … ah, did you talk to Piper?'

'She said that you threatened to break into her place and publish a paper about her sex life.'

'I never used those words.'

'Deacon!'

'All right. Annie … it's like this. You know a lot about me. And you haven't judged me. Not that I know of.'

'I'm hardly in the position.'

'Maybe. But the point is that somewhere along the way I gave you the power to hurt me. I didn't mean to. But there it is.'

'Is this you saying you like me?'

'That … would be an understatement.'

'Deacon?'

'I … yes?'

'Let's go get those books.'

She watched his face closely, the vulnerable look vanishing from his features. He was all professionalism only a blink later. 'Of course. Let me get a weapon.'

'You have it. It's in your belt.' She left her house in Diamond City. 'Huh. You think we can have someone craft a key?'

'I'm pretty sure Preston can.'

'I just thought maybe you'd like a key. I can have MacCready build a second bed. Although … we wouldn't really need that, now would we?' Deacon stopped dead in his tracks and she turned to face him. 'Also there's plenty of space for you to keep some stuff. I don't know how much you have, but as long as it isn't a grand piano or something, it won't be a problem.'

Deacon's expression was very guarded, even by his standards. 'Just tell me this isn't a joke.'

Annie shook her head. 'No. No, it isn't.' She watched the cautious look on his face give way to a smile. Still a cautious one, but definitely there. 'I'm serious, Deacon. Now move. The books won't carry themselves.'


End file.
